


August 30

by Ephy



Series: Street rat [14]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7914208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephy/pseuds/Ephy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason took a bite. It was sweet, its texture soft. He wondered why his mom had liked those so much; she didn’t have a sweet tooth.<br/>Hadn’t had a sweet tooth. He kept forgetting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	August 30

Jason exhaled the smoke, observing its curls through half-closed eyes. He was usually more careful about hiding it when he felt like he needed a cigarette which, admittedly, was happening less and less often. Bruce had a point enforcing that specific rule, Jason guessed. It destroyed your health so don’t do it.

Though so did vigilantism.

Jason glanced over the rooftop’s edge. The park was empty and, even if Bruce or Alfred decided to take a walk for some reason, there was little chance of them spotting him in the darkening light. Bruce would soon be leaving for patrol, anyway, and Alfred would assist him until he’d leave the manor’s premises.

It was a school night so Jason wasn’t accompanying him. He might manage to, sometimes, on a Thursday or maybe on a Wednesday, but certainly not on a Tuesday. In any case, he hadn’t wanted to go. Not today.

Jason put the cigarette aside for a second, making sure it would stay far enough from the rooftop’s edge not to fall down, even with that goddamn wind blowing on the manor’s hill. At least it was still warm, but with August ending so would the summer.

Ah, well.

He took a candy out of his pocket. The piece of marzipan had been a true luxury, back in the Bowery, Jason reflected as he unwrapped it. This year, he just had had to ask Alfred for some. The butler had been surprised, especially when Jason asked him to only buy one piece, but had once more demonstrated his discretion by not asking any question.

A smile flickered on Jason’s lips. He was starting to be fond of the old man. Sarcastic and cold, yes, but he did care. His gut unclenched for a moment at the thought of the pancakes Alfred had prepared for him on his birthday, two weeks ago. There had also been cake for dessert at dinner.

This one was another kind of birthday.

He looked at the cheerful piece of almond pastry in his hand. It was shaped like an apple. Usually, Jason had gone for the pig, just for the laugh of it, but honestly he’d put his hands on any marzipan he could find. It was hard enough to pay for it.

The last year, he hadn’t had the money so he’d stole it. The look on his mother’s face when he’d brought it to her had been worth it.

Jason took a bite. It was sweet, its texture soft. He wondered why his mom had liked those so much; she didn’t have a sweet tooth.

Hadn’t had a sweet tooth. He kept forgetting.

He inspired, fighting back the tears. Hey, if the whole heaven bullshit was true, she still _didn’t_ have a sweet tooth, right? It would be a real pity if they didn’t have any marzipan in heaven.

(She wouldn’t like it if he cried.)

If she was even there at all. The drugs didn’t work in her favor. Though those weren’t forbidden by the Bible, were they? So maybe she had a fighting chance.

Jason took another bite, absently taking back the cigarette in his other hand. Or did you need to be buried properly to go to heaven? She’d probably told him at some point, but he couldn’t remember. She hadn’t been big on religion, even though she’d came from a catholic family.

Maybe they’d buried her. He had no idea. He hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out (long enough for the social services to get their hands on him).

Would it really make a difference? Jason didn’t know. He sure didn’t intend to go on her grave every few days or so to brood, like Bruce did. He understood the need to pay his respects, and that this was personal, but… To corpses? Really?

He shuddered, remembering the _stillness_ of his mom’s corpse when he’d found it. He hadn’t thought she was asleep, like they sometimes did in the movies. It wasn’t even the lack of movement, the lack of breath or something like that.

It was just… What had been laying on that bed wasn’t a person anymore. It had become a thing.

It was only later that Jason had noticed the syringe in her arm, while kneeling on the ground to grab a good pair of shoes under the bed – he sure wouldn’t have gone any closer if he hadn’t had a good reason for it, but good shoes were good shoes, and he had been pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to buy another in the near future (he’d been right).

So she had shot herself one last time, at the end. She’d known, like Jason had, that she’d been dying. At least she’d gone on her own terms.

Jason crushed the last remnants of his cigarette on the chimney’s bricks. Yeah, he knew about paying your respects. But, for him, it wasn’t about graves and serious faces. It was more – menthols, for the smell, and marzipan, for the taste, and a book in his hands, because she’d been the one to give him the love for books.

‘ _I used to be afraid you wouldn’t like them_ ’, she’d said, ‘ _because I wouldn’t let you interrupt whenever I was reading one_.’

Jason snorted. The only consequence of _that_ had been to make him curious of what could possibly be so fascinating about books.

But he _had_ left the book inside because if that fall from the rooftop, Alfred would have his head. Nevermind the cigarettes.

Thinking about it made Jason want to read. He’d started that French thriller with a creepy main character and whose victim he was so _sure_ had to be even worse than the perp’. It was a bit weird but he wanted to know how it would end up.

He quickly ate the last of his marzipan, and paused just a second before slipping back inside.

“Happy birthday, mom.”

**Author's Note:**

> For mom, who didn't have a sweet tooth but loved marzipan.  
> The book mentioned by Jason is _The Truth About the Harry Quebert Affair_ by Joël Dicker.  
>  I'm on [Tumblr](http://missephy.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
